


Girls Will be Girls and Boys Will be...Yikes

by Peggystormborn



Series: Every Time...A Karamel Anthology [20]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Canon compliant through end of season 3, F/M, KaraMel, Karamel spent 10 years in the future then came back with their kids, Themiscyra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 16:18:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18102062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peggystormborn/pseuds/Peggystormborn
Summary: While Kara has a ladies-only vacation on an island paradise, Mon-El and the boys have a shocking encounter with a familiar face from the past.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Allie come home from hero-ing with some news, and Mon-El has some guy time with his sons and nephew. 
> 
> For the uninitiated:
> 
> Karamel have 4 teenagers.
> 
> Alex has a son, Conner.
> 
> Mon-El found his long-lost brother, Eltro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! And by guys I mean the five people who are still reading this series. This one took me a few weeks and it ran kinda long, so I broke it into 2 chapters. 
> 
> And it's really two stories anyway. Kara taking the girls off somewhere special for a few days, and having some issues, and Mon-El having his own adventure with the boys. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Zora wakes up to the the usual smell of Sunday morning: pancakes, bacon, eggs, and various other breakfast staples, along with a pot of coffee. She can hear her brothers and father already plating up food, playfully arguing over how toasty the toast should be.

 

With some difficulty, she drags herself out of bed, dons her robe and slippers, and pads downstairs in search of sustenance. And coffee. Yes, definitely coffee, first and foremost.

 

“I can't believe you drink that stuff,” her little brother John chides. “Someone told me kids aren't even supposed to have coffee. It stunts your growth...or something.”

 

Her twin Xander scoffs as he reaches for the butter dish. “That's just a myth. And even if it were true, I hardly think it applies to us.”

 

“Yeah, but…Dad, you guys always say we should try to stay in the habit of behaving like humans, even when we're at home.”

 

Mon-El looks up from reading Kara's latest article on his tablet--she'd uncovered a shady real estate scheme with ties to some State-level officials--and stares blankly at his three younger children.

 

“Umm…well, she's fourteen. I...think fourteen year-old humans drink coffee sometimes. And the caffeine doesn't affect us. So...have at it, sweetie.” He shoots a goofy smile at his very-much-unsmiling younger daughter, whose long dark curls are currently in a state of dishevelment he finds utterly adorable. He refrains from saying so, knowing she wouldn't take kindly to such a remark. And she looks grumpy enough already, sitting there in her bathrobe nursing her mug of joe.

 

Out of all his kids, Zora reminds him most of himself as a child. And not just because of her brunette locks and her dimples. No, it's because of all his youngsters, Zora is something of a square peg. Everyone in the family is close, of course. And she's always had a special bond with her twin brother, Xander. But Xander also has lots of friends at school, and plays sports with John and Allie, while Zora spends a fair amount of time keeping to herself. She's most content working on some project on her computer, or sitting by her bedroom window reading a book (they've had many a rousing father-daughter discussion on the works of J.K. Rowling, Shakespeare, and countless other authors).

 

He himself had been something of an introvert at that age, until his circumstances and the expectations of his parents drummed it out of him. He smiles internally at his bookish teenage self, who just wanted to escape the notice of dear old Mom and Dad. Eventually, he'd realized that the only escape was to do as all the other Daxamites did. Party, drink, get high…play the part.

 

Pretend the entirety of his existence didn't make him deeply uncomfortable.

 

And, perhaps most importantly, ignore the weight of the responsibility that he knew would one day be placed upon him. The thought had terrified him then--the knowledge that one day he would be King, would be in charge of an entire civilization.

 

His parents ruled Daxam with an iron grip, and foresaw their reign continuing for many years. As a result, they never took much time out of their busy back-to-back bacchanalia schedule to try and teach him how to do...whatever it was they did. They never took much time to do _anything_ with him. Though some days they did manage to take notice of him long enough to speculate about his lack of leadership potential. Those were...very, _very_ bad days.

 

All the more reason to drink his cares away, blend in with the party, ignore his looming fate as best he could.

 

It was a fate that would never come to pass, his parents and planet now just a memory. Having found happiness on Earth he couldn't possibly have imagined then, he rarely thinks about his old life any more. Although the catastrophic loss of everyone and everything he knew the first twenty-five years of his life is certainly something that left its mark on him. He still, every now and then, has nightmares about Daxam's destruction.

 

But his parents? He knows it's for the best that they're gone. It's not that he doesn't miss them, that he doesn't sometimes lament the fact that his children will never know them, that he doesn't even have a photo of them to stick in an album. But after everything they did...or, rather, everything his mother Rhea did--murdering his father and violently invading National City--he can't help but be thankful Kara was able to stop her. Even if that meant losing his lover for many years. Even if it meant losing the only two people he'd ever shared blood with--until his children were born, of course.

 

He looks at his child now, at the curvature of her nose and chin, and it hits him how much she’s started to resemble his mother. Of course he'd never once seen Her Majesty with bed head, or in pajamas, or thumbing through her cell phone while absentmindedly nibbling on a glazed donut. The Eminent Rhea wouldn't dare appear outside her quarters without formal dress; bejeweled, bedecked and immaculately coiffed. And yet…there she was, the teenage likeness of the once-mighty high Queen of Daxam. Right down to the eyes. Though they were blue like Kara's, their size and shape, coupled with her arched brows, made them look almost exactly like his mother's.

 

Said maternal likeness glares at him, and he realizes he's now been staring at her for some time.

 

“You okay, Dad?” she asks, raising one of those familiar-looking eyebrows. Even her voice bears a slight similarity, now that she's getting closer to adulthood.

 

“Yeah, it's just...I was just remembering something…or, actually, some _one_ …”

 

“Who?” she tilts her head, curious.

 

He hesitates, wondering if maybe today is the day to finally explain to them what happened to their grandparents. He's never quite been able to muster the will to tell them the whole story. Though they're aware of the invasion, and the fact that his mother and father died during the course of those events. But...to tell them that his mother killed his father in cold blood and that Kara was the one to activate the device that caused Rhea to turn to ash right in front of him...it seemed like too much for young kids to hear.

 

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself to finally tell the tale when…

 

“Morning!” a sunshiny voice rings out through the kitchen. “We're home! Volcano contained, local residents safe. All good.” She dusts her hands together.

 

And there they are, Supergirl, still in uniform, and her sixteen-year old carbon copy, sporting her own red, blue and gold ensemble, complete with House of El glyph. Their matching blond waves bounce as they march in the back door, smug smiles on their faces.

 

“Hey, Mom! Did you bring us back anything from Italy?” Xander wonders.

 

“I wanted to pick up some Murano glass jewelry, but Mom said we had to get back,” Allie complains.

 

“We weren't there to go sightseeing, honey, but we can swing by Venice another time. Okay?” Allie sighs, nodding her head with only a modicum of disappointment.

 

Kara sees her husband smiling up at her expectantly. “She did great. Super teen really saved the day!”

 

“That's not what I'm going by,” Allie counters. “Maybe...Super lass… Super lady? I dunno, I need to think about it.”

 

“How about Super bathroom hogger?” Xander suggests.

 

“Or Never-Does-Her-Laundry Girl?” Zora adds.

 

The youngest Danvers ignores the taunt-fest. “Did you save a lot of people, Al?”

 

She smiles warmly at John. Rao bless her sweet little brother. “Like a hundred I think. Check it out, I even loaded up a bunch of folks onto a school bus and flew it to safety!” Allie brags while miming a plane takeoff with her hand.

 

“So was there like, lava everywhere?” Xander inquires.

 

“In a few spots, yeah. Cold breath _really_ came in handy. But mostly we were just dealing with smoke and ash.”

 

“Tell them the best part, honey. I mean, not that saving lives isn't the best, but...tell them who we saw!” Kara urges.

 

Allie claps her hands with excitement. “Right...well, the eruption was huge, and I guess it was an all-superhero-hands-on-deck situation, so Clark showed up with a bunch of people he's been working with, including this one really _amazing_ , incredibly nice and totally impressive woman…I mean, her outfit alone was… _wonder_ ful, really, and long story short…”

 

“We got invited to Themiscyra!” Kara blurts out.

 

Allie huffs and shoots an irritated glance at her thunder-stealing mother. “Right...well, since it's summer break, Mom and I are gonna go spend the week there. They said we could invite whoever we want, too, I mean, whatever _women,_  so I guess we should call Aunt Alex and see if she can take some time off from the DEO…”

 

“I'm sorry...what? You're going...where?” Mon-El asks, utterly confused.

 

“It's this secret island of powerful warrior women. Just women. Even Clark has never seen it. I'll have to move some stuff around at the office, but James will understand,” Kara explains.

 

“So you guys will be gone...all week?” Mon-El asks a little tentatively. Since their reunion, journey to the future and subsequent marriage many years ago, they'd never spent more than a couple days apart. Nor had he ever been separated from Allie.

 

“Yeah...is that okay? Clark said he'd chip in if you need some help hero-ing. And your brother and J'onn are around, too, so…”

 

“Yeah, of course. I'm just gonna miss you, that's all.” He reaches for her hand and she allows him to pull her onto his lap as he wraps an arm around her waist.

 

“Aww, well it's only a week, love. You can make do without the two of us that long, right?”

 

“Two of you?” Zora chimes in. “Am _I_ not invited? I mean, you said it's a girls only trip…”

 

Kara and Allie look at her blankly. “Oh…well, of course you are, sweetie. I just...I didn't think…” Kara stammers.

 

“We didn't know if you'd be interested, Zor. You tend to be kinda... _meh_ about hero stuff.” Allie makes a 'so-so' gesture with her hand.

 

“Just ‘cause I don't have any real powers yet doesn't mean I want to miss out on Xena-land,” Zora grumps.

 

“I would pay _so_ much money to see you try and wield a sword,” Xander chuckles.

 

“What money? You spend every penny of your allowance on video game crap,” John points out.

 

“And sneakers. Don't forget those,” big brother snarks.

 

John rolls his eyes and refocuses on his breakfast.

 

Kara, ignoring them, smiles and grabs a plate. “Okay, great! It's settled. I'll call Alex, and Allie, go get some sleep. You've been up all night.”

 

“Yeah, okay. After I call my boyfriend to let him know I didn't get eaten by Smaug.” The elder Danvers daughter grabs a small stack of blueberry pancakes with one hand and starts munching on it like a sandwich, while unhooking her new cape with the other.

 

Zora quietly watches her go, a tiny, unfamiliar ember of jealousy springing to life in her belly. “Smaug didn't live in a volcano…” she mutters under her breath.

 

Mon-El observes his youngest girl eying her big sister, then turns his head toward his wife. He wonders if Kara has also noticed this subtle change in Zora: a sullenness that's crept in bit by bit over the last year or two. He hopes it's just run-of-the-mill teenage angst, with maybe a side of Jan Brady syndrome.

 

Zora leaves the table wordlessly, retreating to her room with her mug. She stops, realizing her coffee's gone cold, then sighs and trudges over to give it a few seconds in the microwave, before leaving the room altogether.

 

Kara, seemingly oblivious to her younger daughter's mood, speed-shovels down a plate full of fruit, eggs and bacon before snatching the last chocolate glazed and practically skipping off to their bedroom.

 

“I'm gonna get packed!” she exclaims as she trots away, leaving the males of the household to clean up the breakfast table.

 

“Does this mean we can walk around without pants on all week?” Xander asks, at length.

 

“Umm...why?” his father balks.  

 

The older son shrugs. “House full of dudes? Gotta be something fun we can do.”

 

“Dream bigger, man,” John says.

 

Mon-El makes a conscious effort not to roll his eyes at his sons. “I'm sure we can find something else to entertain ourselves. And since Alex is going, I assume your cousin Conner will be staying here, so…”

 

“...So with his wonky powers, expect the unexpected,” Xander infers.

 

“That's not what I was gonna say but...it's...not inaccurate…” Mon-El admits. Alex's adopted son was a genetic hybrid born with various alien and metahuman powers, which he's never entirely had a firm handle on, despite years of work. Things have certainly improved as he'd gotten older, but he still had occasional episodes. Just recently, he'd been mortified to suddenly develop x-ray vision at the most inopportune time possible...while Alex was in the shower.

 

They all sit there staring at each other for a few moments, pondering this.

 

“After breakfast, I'm gonna make sure the fire extinguishers are all up to date,” John finally adds.

 

“...Yeah, that's a good idea,” his father nods.

 

********

 

“Wow. It's…” Kara starts, marveling at the crystal blue water, brilliant white cliffs and pristine sand of their week-long getaway locale.

 

“Spectacular?” Allie finishes.

 

“Stunning?” Alex offers.

 

“Wicked bright?” Zora pipes in. They all look at her with crinkled brows. “What?” she continues. “I hope you all brought hats and sunglasses. We're gonna need 'em.” She plods down the beach a ways toward a wayward chunk of driftwood that's washed ashore, plunks down her bag, and retrieves a pair of wayfarers and a National City Sharks baseball cap. It's clearly been borrowed from her twin, since Zora has never shown the slightest interest in professional sports.

 

Within moments, a small phalanx of riders on horseback approaches, encircling the group, fully clad in battle armor. Though Kara and Alex know they are here by invitation, they still place themselves protectively in front of the girls.

 

“Welcome, Kara Zor-El, daughter of Krypton, and your honored family,” the leader addresses them. “I am Theophania, Captain of the Amazonian Guard. We are pleased you have arrived safely.”

 

Kara bows slightly, and her sister and daughters quickly mimic her, unsure of the protocol on the island.

 

“The pleasure is ours, Captain. It is an honor to be present among you,” Kara intones. “May I present my sister, Alexandra, and my daughters, Alura and Zora.”

 

The woman nods respectfully. “If you'll follow us, Calista and Ariadne will escort you to your quarters where you can rest from your journey. Our seamstress, Sophronia, will fit you with proper attire. And when you are ready, you may join us in the arena for sparring. Or, if you prefer, our finest archers, Nephele and Iphigenia will work with you.”

 

Allie practically starts vibrating out of her red boots at the mention of archery. Kara smiles at the younger blonde’s reaction, then at Alex, who's wearing a similar guise of excitement. When she looks at Zora, though, the young brunette simply shrugs at her mother. “Whatever,” she says. “Long as I can get all this sand out of my shoes.”

 

Kara shoots her offspring an incredulous look, shaking her head, before returning her attention sheepishly to the Themiscyrans.

 

“Thank you, Captain, for your generous hospitality.”

 

They are led from the beach up a steep hill and along a cobblestone road with ornate clay and tile buildings. Colonnades are built into the rock wall on one side, and they have a magnificent view of the ocean on the other. The vista is punctuated by spokes of rock and greenery jutting out from the stunning aquamarine water, and here and there a waterfall pours down from above them, flowing below the road under their feet and cascading down the cliffside with a deafening roar.

 

At length, they are brought to a circular, copper- and white-mosaiced building, dome sparkling in the sun. It's ringed by fantastic archways, and when they enter they see a wide spiral staircase leading to an upper floor. Every square inch of the structure's interior is covered with vibrant murals illustrating the rich, storied history of the island and its formidable inhabitants.

 

They ascend the stairs into a spacious living area, with plush beds separated by curtains fluttering in the island breeze. In the center is a large tub--or possibly a small swimming pool.

 

“Hope you all brought bathing suits, ‘cause I am _not_ down for family skinny dipping,” Zora mutters under her breath. Her mother, the only one whose superhearing enables her to hear, glares at her youngest across the room.

 

As they look around, they see that several marble columns around the space boast hooks laden with vibrant, jewel-toned gowns, though there are some dresses in more muted hues like dusky rose and ivory. On other nearby racks hang metallic-toned breastplates and various accoutrements clearly meant for battle training. After directing them to all the available amenities (and the restroom), their welcome delegation departs with an invitation to join in the practice arena at their leisure.

 

When the Themiscyrans descend down the stairs, the three elder Danvers women dart around the room, examining the furnishings and clothing, and admiring the spectacular sun-drenched landscape outside, viewable from any one of six balconies ringing the room. Zora, however, plunks down onto the nearest sofa with her phone.

 

“I guess I should have expected...no reception. Not that there's an outlet in sight to charge them or anything,” she complains.

 

Kara sighs--that particular breed of exhalation that only emanates from mothers at their wit's end--and marches over to her daughter.

 

“All right, _enough_. I don't know _what's_ going on in your head, but you, young lady, are going to get your act together, respect that we are _guests_ here, and appreciate this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Are we clear?”

 

“What? What did I do?” Zora balks.

 

Kara scoffs. “Do you even want to _be_ here?”

 

“Yeah, of course I do...I mean it's just…I'm not _like_ you guys.”

 

“What's _that_ supposed to mean?”

 

“Nothing, just…never mind. I'm sorry, okay? I'll pull it together. All right?”

 

Kara, relaxing, nods and returns to Allie, who is already trying to sort out the myriad hooks and buckles that are meant to hold up an armored skirt of some kind.

 

As Zora sits back down to unpack her bag, she glances around anxiously at her surroundings.

 

Alex observes her niece with concern, then grabs a shiny silver corset they she thinks--hopes--will fit a somewhat gangly fourteen-year-old.

 

“Come on, Zor. Let's get you suited up.”

 

********

 

“AAAAHHHH!” Conner yells, waking in a sweat on the living room couch. “WHAT THE F…” he starts, before realizing his Uncle Mon is staring at him.

 

“...udge…” he covers.

 

“You okay, Conner?” Mon-El asks. He's sitting in his regular morning spot at the dining table, reading the news on his tablet over a cup of coffee. “Bad dream? You, uh, knocked out while we were watching Jaws last night, so Xander just sort of tossed a throw blanket over you. Personally I wouldn't have thought it possible to doze off during that particular movie, since, you know, _yikes,_  but...are you okay?”

 

“Yeah...yeah, just…really weird dream. Vivid.”

 

“About what?”

 

“...A dragon, I think. Or something. It was one of those nonsense dreams, though. It was running around at...I think it was an old summer camp.”

 

“...What did the dragon look like?”

 

“Um…it wasn't really like on Game of Thrones of anything. It was…kind of like a seahorse, you know, with a fluted snout, but it had legs and wings. It even had a curly tail. It was...so bizarre.”

 

“Huh...by any chance, did it have six claws on its front legs?”

 

“I didn't count them...but it could have. Why?”

 

“Well, what you're describing sounds a lot like a Garata dragon.”

 

“Ga...rata? What's that?”

 

“I've never told you about it? It's a sport we used to have back on Daxam where players fly around. Krypton had it, too. Bit like soccer. But, uh...I don't remember ever describing the dragons to you. And I doubt Kara did.”

 

“No, but…if you're thinking this was one of my prophetic dreams, I don't think so. I haven't had one of those in years. And like I said, this thing was at a summer camp. As in, on Earth. Plus wouldn't the dragons be extinct? Being from your home worlds and all?”

 

“Well, Kryptonians and Daxamites bred them, but they weren't native to our system. And lots of other planets imported them, too. I'm sure they still exist in many corners of the galaxy. Which means it's very possible someone might have brought one here.”

 

“Still…probably just a coincidence.”

 

“...Well, what color was it?”

 

“Uh, like a burnt orange, with…”

 

“...Bright blue fringe on its head?”

 

“...Yeah…”

 

“...Conner, go wake up your cousins. We're going dragon hunting.”

 

********

 

The idyllic afternoon on their newfound island paradise starts out about as Kara expected. She gets permission to snap a few photos of her girls in their Amazonian armor. Allie and Alex have a ball with their bows and arrows. Kara, having enhanced eyesight and ironclad control of her powers at this point in her life, is able to hit the bullseye without fail despite never having picked up a bow and arrow before--a skill she can't WAIT to lord over one Mr. Oliver Queen--so she ends up spending most of her time watching the instructors coach Zora. Who is…having somewhat less success than the others. After hours of patient instruction, she's only managed to hit the target a few times (never mind the center of it) and on more than one occasion now she's accidentally sent an arrow skittering out of control.

 

“Want to take a break, sweetie?” Kara suggests, coming up behind her younger girl and rubbing her shoulder.

 

Zora shrugs off the affectionate touch. “I'm fine, Mom. I just...need more practice. A _lot_ more, apparently…” she mutters. Kara watches anxiously as her daughter winds up her bowstring again, a bit too far. Predictably, her front hand loses its grip, causing the whole contraption to snap back at her. “OW! Son of a…” she shakes her hand as though it's in pain, though they both know she isn't actually hurt.

 

“Okay, okay. How about we…” Kara soothes.

 

“...How about you _actual_ heroes keep having fun and I'll just…go find something else to do.” She drops her weaponry on the ground and stalks off back toward their quarters.

 

“Zora, honey, please come back…” Kara pleads feebly, as she watches her little girl march away, metal clothing jangling with each step, chestnut curls bouncing defiantly.

 

She turns back, realizing their instructors are staring, while Alex watches from the sidelines.

 

“I'm so sorry...I don't know what's gotten into her…” she says, face reddening.

 

“It is all right, Kara Zor-El.” Nephele says. “Rarely has the soil of Themiscyra been trod upon by one so young, but…” she looks awkwardly at her partner.

 

Iphigenia continues. “...Our Princess…the one who invited you here. She was also a...spirited child. And in many ways, she still is. Our Queen has spent many sleepless nights worrying over her.”

 

“With good reason,” Nephele chuckles.

 

Kara sighs. “Sounds familiar. Thank you for your understanding.”

 

“Of course,” Iphigenia nods. “It is nearly time to adjourn for the day. There will be a banquet in your honor at dusk. Why don't you and your family refresh yourselves and we will send an escort at the appointed hour.”

 

Kara bows, as grateful for her hostesses’ empathy as she is for their hospitality.

 

On the walk back, Kara speeds ahead, anxious to get back to her wayward child, while Alex lags back with Allie, who is practically bouncing, jabbering on about how amazing all the warriors are. Suddenly startled, the young blonde stops short and looks around. “Where'd Zora go?” she wonders.

 

“You're _just_ noticing she's not here?” Alex asks, a bit taken aback.

 

Allie shrugs, sheepishly. “I...guess I got a little preoccupied.”

 

Sighing, Alex puts her arm around her niece. “Listen, I know how exciting this place is. It's like...super woman Disneyland. But Zora…well, let's just say I know something about growing up with an exceptional sister. It isn't always easy. I had to find my own way, figure out my own gifts. And I stumbled along the way. Like, a _lot_. Like...Papa J'onn picking me up from _jail_ a lot. Just...try and give her a break on this trip, okay? Things may not come as easy for her as they do for you.”

 

“Oh. Okay,” Allie replies, brows knitting together with concern--and slightly shocked at the mention of Aunt Alex in lockup, though she opts not to ask any follow-up questions.

 

Then another thought strikes her. “Wait a sec, I've been working my butt off all _year_ training with Mom and Dad. And _you,_  Drill Sergeant, you're the worst of all! Exactly which part of all this was supposed to be _easy_?”

 

“How about the part where you can fly and lift a city bus over your head without breaking a sweat?”

 

Allie pouts a little and briefly considers leaving her Aunt in the dust. Instead, she nods and vows to pay more attention to whatever it is her little sister is going through.

 

********

 

“So…where exactly did you see this thing?” Mon-El asks his nephew, when they arrive at Twin Pines Summer Camp--or, what _used_ to be a summer camp. Now it's more or less an assemblage of old dilapidated cabins and out-buildings, torn window screens flapping in the breeze. Scattered around the place, vestiges of old campground activities are visible: a rope swing here, a climbing wall there, a black rocky crater which was probably once a fire pit. He hopes this is the right place. It's the only abandoned camp in the state to his knowledge. Or, rather, Google's knowledge.

 

He walks along an overgrown path tentatively, protectively shielding Xander, John and Conner behind him, and trying not to make too much noise.

 

“It was down in the boathouse, hiding under a collapsed rack of canoes and rafts and stuff. But then I saw it pop out to chase a squirrel up into the trees and along the zipline course.”

 

“Squirrel? Huh. Okay. John, you're the only one here with reliable x-ray vision. So let me know if you see it...or anything else. For all we know, it's not alone here. And if I tell you three to run, RUN, okay?”

 

“...Are these things dangerous, Dad?” John asks.

 

“They're normally pretty docile, being domesticated and all. And they're herbivorous. But they can lunge if they feel cornered. And they're strong, with sharp claws. Nothing we can't handle, but potentially harmful to humans. I suspect this one may have been abandoned by its owner. They aren't known to stray far from their pens if they're fed regularly.”

 

“Wait, if they're plant-eaters why would one be hunting a squirrel?” Xander wonders aloud.

 

“I'm not sure. Maybe it's malnourished, without someone taking care of it. Though there's...no shortage of plant life here…” his father replies, crinkling his brows.

 

“So like... what are we gonna do if we find it?” John asks.

 

“I've got some sugar cubes in my pocket,” Mon-El shrugs, matter-of-factly.

 

“Sugar? That's all we got? You didn't bring, like, a tranq gun?” Conner wonders.

 

Mon-El stops short and looks at the three boys. “Are you all under the impression that we keep a tranquilizer gun in the house somewhere?”

 

The youngsters look at each other and shrug. “Um...no?” John finally says.

 

His father pats his shoulder, hoping to quell some of those obvious nerves. “Look, everyone here is invulnerable. I know we're talking about a large animal with claws and wings, but it can't really hurt any of us. It's basically a funny-looking flying cow. There's nothing to be afraid of. I promise you, it's far more scared of us than we are of it. But I hope once we give it a treat it'll warm up to us.”

 

“And then what?” Xander asks.

 

“Then...well, you guys might just have a new pet. Until we can figure out somewhere safe to put him. Or her. Or...no, wait...I don't think these things have a gender, actually…” Mon-El taps his chin, pondering.

 

“Dad!” John gasps, pointing up at a nearby a copse of trees.

 

Sure enough, they all see it. Huge orange wings flapping amidst the greenery. Punctuated by quick glimpses of electric blue.

 

“Okay, you guys stay here. I'm gonna try to fly up to it and see if it'll eat from my hand.” Mon-El pulls the white cubes from a baggie in his pocket.

 

He floats up into the air, hovering closer and closer to the animal. He smiles, remembering the last time he'd seen one of these things. His twenty-fourth name day back on Daxam. His friends had taken him to a Garata match, and their favored team had won, despite long odds against them. Mon-El was always one to root for the underdog. But in his celebrating, he was late for the official palace dinner in honor of his day. The look on his mother's face--one of utter disappointment mixed with a total lack of surprise--was one for the record books. It still makes him cringe, nearly seventy years later (give or take twelve thousand).

 

All at once it looks up, sees him, and lets out a monstrous shriek, folding up its wings and plummeting towards the ground.

 

Startled, Mon-El drops the sugar cubes he's holding and attempts to swoop down and catch the beast before it crash-lands. But he somehow loses it among the thick cover of leaves and branches. He alights to the Earth, frantically looking out for the large, brightly-colored creature.

 

It's nowhere to be found. He can't hear it, either.

 

He emerges from the foliage, and heads back toward the boys.

 

“What happened?” Conner wonders. “It was right there, and then it just, like...wasn't.”

 

“I have no idea. It's like it just vanished. John, can you see it?” Mon-El asks.

 

John scans the trees, looks through buildings, checks the sky. Nothing.

 

“Sorry, Dad. I think it's gone.”

 

Mon-El sighs. “Damn. Well, I guess the thing is okay here, for now. It's probably just scared and lonely. How about we try again tomorrow?”

 

The boys nod, disappointed.

 

“Come on, it's almost lunch time,” Mon-El says, hoping to lighten the mood. “How about we stop at that diner we saw on the way here? The sign said something about having the best milkshakes in the county. And I'll bet they have a jukebox. Those are fun, right?”

 

“And you would know, since fun is _always_ at the top of your priority list, _isn't it,_ Mon-El?” a familiar voice rings out from just up the path behind them. Mon-El stiffens, hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention. He turns slowly in the direction of the newcomer.

 

There she is. Long brown waves cascading out from under her dark colored tiara, shiny black dress and cloak, haughty demeanor just as he remembers.

 

The three younger males stand there looking at her with confusion.

 

“Dad...who’s…” Xander starts.

 

Mon-el quickly shushes him. “Kids…RUN,” he whispers.

 

Now panicked, the boys take off in the opposite direction, back towards the lake. Mon-El stands frozen for a moment, as the figure tilts its head to one side, eying him, and takes a step closer. Heart pounding, he speeds off to catch up with the children, who have taken shelter in what he imagines used to be the mess hall.

 

The boys are brimming with questions.

 

“Uncle Mon, are you okay?” Conner asks.

 

“What's happening? What _is_ that thing?” Xander adds.

 

“Dad...what...who WAS that?” John inquires.

 

Mon-El slumps down onto a rickety wooden bench, covering his face with his hands.

 

“That…” he finally says, looking up, “...was your grandmother.”

 

The boys go wide-eyed, look at each other for a moment, then race to the nearest broken window.

 

There she is, staring back at them from a nearby clearing.

 

Waiting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara has a heart to heart with her daughter, and Mon-El has a face to face with someone from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, don't hate me, I decided to break this into 3 chapters instead of 2.

The Grecian-style gowns all fit perfectly, so Sophronia hardly needs to make any adjustments at all. Kara is luminous as always in her classic blue, accented by a shiny swatch of fine silk draping over one shoulder like a cape. Alex opts for a vibrant red dress, sleeves slitted along the top of her arms and clasped every few inches by gemstone-embellished fixtures. Allie goes for a sleeveless gold sheath with a draped cowl neck, making her look like a walking, talking awards statue.

 

Zora emerges from behind the changing screen dressed in a form-fitting, muted dark greyish-green floor length gown. To say she contrasts with the rest of her family would be a wild understatement. “Sticks out like a sore thumb” might be more accurate. Her normally-wild curls are now subdued into glossy waves, and she seems to have applied some eye makeup (which she must have brought with her, since none was made available to them here).

 

Kara gasps slightly when she lays eyes on her younger girl, then looks at Alex. Judging by her sister's wide-eyed appearance, it's clear she sees it, too.

 

“What?” Zora flinches under their gaze.

 

“...Nothing,” Kara says. “You just...look like someone...never mind.”

 

“You guys are weird,” Zora huffs, as she fastens an earring and then tugs down her sleeves, which have ridden up slightly.

 

Their escorts arrive just then, and the Danverses head down the stairs and up to the main palace.

 

Zora and Allie walk ahead, the elder sister enthusiastically linking the younger's arm. Even from behind, Kara can practically feel Zora's overblown eye-roll, knowing she's being humored right now.

 

Trailing back aways, Kara turns to Alex.

 

“I'm not crazy, right? You see it too?”

 

“In that dress? Absolutely. My God, she looks just like…”

 

“...Like Rhea?”

 

“Yeah...exactly…how did we never notice before?”

 

Kara sighs. “She's getting older. Not my little girl any more. I mean I knew she took after Mon-El's side, but I guess I never thought much about where _his_ genes came from.”

 

“Well, he's nothing like his parents. And neither is she.”

 

“Oh, God no. Of course not. But still…something's been off with her. For a while now. Something…more than regular teenage angst, I think.”

 

“I think you're right about that.”

 

“I'm not really sure what to do about it. She isn't one to just...open up and tell me what she's feeling.”

 

“Well, I was a bit like that at her age. And you brought me out of my shell. Plus you've got plenty of experience dealing with adolescent drama now, right? What with Allie and her unsanctioned hero-ing and possibly-evil-boyfriend shenanigans.”

 

“But my problems with Allie have always been rooted in the fact that that we're so similar. Wanting to be heroes, wanting to prove ourselves, stubbornly fighting for people we care for, that sort of thing. This is...something different. Zora's more...withdrawn. I don't know, maybe it's better if Mon-El deals with her on this. I just feel like I'm out of my depth with her.”

 

“Yeah, well you once told me all parents feel kind of like that all the time. Right? Look, we're here, away from home and work and school and Supergirl-ing. There's plenty of opportunities for one-on-one time. You're her _mother_. I _know_ you can reach her.”

 

 “...You're right. As always. Thank you, I really needed that.”

 

“Of course. It's nice, actually, to be the one dispensing parenting advice to _you,_ for once. Miss I've-got-four-of-these-you-can't-tell-me-anything.” Alex sing-songs, voice full of mockery.

 

“Cute. You done?”

 

Alex scrunches her face smugly. “Yeah, I'm done.”

 

********

 

“I don't understand. I thought you said our Grandparents from Daxam were dead,” John paces the floor, projecting a sense of worriment that belies his young age.

 

“They are,” his father replies.

 

“So…who's standing out there serving us creepy-ass looks right now?” Xander demands.

 

“It's...it has to be an Aeglor.” The boys stare at him expectantly. Feeling utterly drained all of a sudden, he can't seem to do much more than rub his temples and try his best to calm down.

 

“...AND?!” Conner finally says.

 

Mon-El shakes his head. “They're shapeshifters. And they...they can read thoughts.”

 

“Wait, so…what happened to the dragon?” Conner wonders.

 

“That _is_ the dragon, doofus,” Xander chides.

 

“Guys, knock it off. Dad, seriously, are you okay?” John sits down next to his father and wraps a small arm around his back.

 

The Daxamite lets out a long groan, slumping over. “It must have connected with my mind when I was up in the trees,” he says, still trying to reason the whole situation out.

 

“Oh…so it's like a Boggart…” Xander nods.

 

“A what?” Conner asks.

 

“From Harry Potter…” Mon-El ekes out. Conner, amazingly unfamiliar with the world's most popular children's book series, just shrugs.

 

“So is it...like a person...now?” John wonders.

 

“No. It may walk and talk and look like a person, but it's just a reflection of my...memories of her. These things read thoughts, then use them to mimic other animals so they can get close enough to…”

 

“...EAT them?!” Xander takes this cue to start properly freaking out, hyperventilating slightly.

 

“Dude, we're invulnerable. It can't eat us, right Dad?” John looks at Mon-El for reassurance.

 

“No...no, it can't eat us. They hunt small prey when they have to, but usually they just trick other species into caring for them, like their own young. Or they sneak up and steal food. But It's actually much smaller than it looks. Like the size of a cat. However, they can project themselves to a larger size, to scare off predators.”

 

“Right, like a Boggart. Like I said. They read your fears,” Xander infers.

 

“...Something like that…” Mon-El sighs. “It couldn't have gotten to Earth on its own. My best guess is someone was trying to sell it by passing it off as another kind of valuable animal, and whatever plan they had went south. Either it escaped or was abandoned, and whoever it connected with last I imagine must have been a Garata fan...or have some kind of dragon phobia.”

 

“So now what?” John asks. “We can't just...leave it out here.”

 

“No, we can't. These things can cause all kinds of trouble,” his father agrees. “We'll have to call in the DEO.” He goes to pull out his cell phone.

 

“Dad, no! They'll probably kill it!” John worries.

 

“They won't kill it directly, they'll just lock it up somewhere and throw away the key until it wastes away,” Xander grumps.

 

Mon-El ponders this. It's true, the DEO isn't really set up for this kind of thing. Their cells are made for humanoid species, of the criminal variety. And with Alex away, he doubts Vasquez or whoever's in charge will be flexible enough to make an exception here to accommodate an intergalactic zoo animal.

 

He opts to dial J'onn instead.

 

The Martian arrives in less than twenty minutes, phasing through the rear wall of the building. But he doesn't come alone.

 

“Hey, brother,” Eltro smiles at his twin, appearing alongside their long-time father figure. Mon-El probably should've expected this, since his brother spends so much time with J'onn, but in his slightly overwhelmed state it simply hadn't occurred to him that J'onn would bring Elt along.

 

Mon-El suddenly can't quite manage more than a weak “Hi,” and he freezes when Elt gamely walks over to look out the window, where the boys have been observing the source of their current predicament and snapping photos on their phones.

 

“Elt, wait! Don't…” he manages, too late.

 

“GRIFE!!” Eltro exclaims, staggering back from the view of that...thing. Panicked, he topples over one of the room's old wooden picnic benches.

 

“Yeah, that was more or less my reaction,” Mon-El says, picking his brother up off the floor. “I'm sorry, I'm a little slow on the draw right now. Chalk it up to…you know, _that._ ” He jerks his head in the direction of the window.

 

The boys and J'onn circle around the two Daxamites as Mon-El looks his brother over. Though he obviously couldn't have been hurt falling over a bench, the sight of their dead mother just possibly might be enough to cause even an invulnerable alien's heart to stop.

 

“It's not Mother. It's just an…” Mon-El tries to explain.

 

“...an Aeglor. Yeah, J'onn said. But why is it…”

 

“...Her? I guess I…she popped into my brain, and, well…”

 

“Okay, so someone just needs to think of something else, right? Something for it to turn into…” John infers, interrupting the adults.

 

“It's not that simple,” J'onn explains. “It's connected with Mon-El's mind. It's afraid, and it knows being Rhea scares us off. Keeps us at bay. It'll stay this way until it encounters someone else and feels the need to protect itself from them. Or...well, until you can get close to it. Earn its trust.”

 

“Trust. Right. Which means I'll need to…” Mon-El exhales.

 

“Go talk to it,” J'onn shrugs. “Once it knows you mean no harm, it should change to something else. Hopefully something innocuous.”

 

“Ooh! I vote Stay Puft Marshmallow Man!” Conner jokes. The others stare daggers at him until he sheepishly plunks down on a different bench.

 

“Mon…I'll go with you,” Eltro finally says, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder.

 

“No, Elt, it's okay. I can manage.”

 

“But you don't have to. And honestly? I think we both have a few things we need to say to her. Maybe we should look at this...as an opportunity.”

 

Mon-El nods, and takes his brother's hand as they walk through the door and back toward the thing wearing their mother's face.

 

********

 

The feast is just as splendorous as the scenery, boasting a variety of roasted meats, platters of the island's own fresh fruits and vegetables, and all types of delicious accoutrements. Kara and Allie wolf down warm grilled flatbreads with some kind of yogurt-y dip, and the Kryptonian makes a mental note to ask if they'd be willing to give her the recipe. Knowing Mon-El's love of tzatziki, he'd undoubtedly go gaga for it as well.

 

And then there's the wine. It looks and tastes much like a robust Pinot Noir, but unfortunately turns out to be somewhat stronger. After only two glasses, Alex appears to be on the verge of passing out. Kara is forced to walk her out to the terrace and sit her down on a bench.

 

“You know you're my fayvert sister...you know you're that...right?” the island's only human visitor (perhaps ever? Kara wonders) slurs.

 

“I know, sis. I know. Sit down, okay?” Alex complies, but then curls up like a kitten on the marble bench, smiling serenely as she drifts off.

 

“Oh, boy,” Kara sighs. “I better fly her back to the room.”

 

“No, Mom, I can do it,” Allie counters. “I'm kinda tired anyway. And I suspect our hosts are interested in seeing you demonstrate your powers. I heard a few excited whispers of from the peanut gallery over there.” Allie points a thumb over her shoulder at the crowd of women inside the hall, many of whom are clearly eying them with anticipation.

 

“Are you sure you don't mind?” Kara asks, biting her lip.

 

Allie smiles warmly and shakes her head, then scoops up her aunt like a rag doll and nods a cursory thank you to their hosts, before taking to the air and gracefully gliding back over the moonlit landscape toward their quarters.

 

Theophania approaches Kara as she watches her daughter and sister fly off into the night.

 

“It is...quite remarkable what your family can do…” she shakes her head, awestruck.

 

“Oh, well, just me and my eldest...and my husband,” Kara blushes slightly. “My sister...uh…I'm sorry she…”

 

“...No, no, it is I who should apologize. I should have foreseen that vintage would be unsuitable for a mortal…”

 

“She'll...be all right, won't she?” Kara asks, suddenly concerned.

 

“Oh, yes. If she ails in the morning, a good soak in our hot springs should bring her relief.”

 

“Thank you,” Kara replies.

 

Theophania takes Kara's arm and walks her back to the feast. “May I ask...your family's powers...you say they come from the sun?”

 

“Yes. The yellow sun. The system my husband and I come from has a red sun. And because of that, I have some...unusual abilities. I'd be happy to show you, if you're interested.”

 

Theophania lights up at this, and as they rejoin the gathering, Kara notices that every head in the place is now turned expectantly towards her. Every head but one, of course. Zora is currently sitting in a chair along the back wall, attention focused entirely on a plate of grapes and soft cheeses.

 

Kara takes a quick glance at her not-so-little girl, then smiles a bit awkwardly at her hosts as she's led to a spacious courtyard, lined by statues and large ornate planters filled with colorful blooms.

 

The crowd of Amazons ooh and ahh as she lifts two of the planters, one in each hand, and does a simple juggling act in midair. Then, after carefully replacing the decor, she speeds to a nearby waterfall, freezing it solid with her cold breath. She returns with the frozen pillar, which she then carves using her heat vision into the shape of a woman.

 

“It's my mother,” Kara explains, finishing off the house of El glyph on the figure's chest. “She's one of the few people I can sculpt from memory.” In truth, she's been doing ice sculptures of Alura since her cold breath and heat vision manifested in adolescence. At the time, it was the only way she could think of to look upon her mother's face, lacking any images of her from Krypton.

 

The room erupts in applause as she steps back and does a quick nod at her handiwork. She resists the urge to take a bow, opting for an “aw shucks” shrug of the shoulders.

 

Her super ears note an exaggerated sigh emanating from the back of the room as the accolades die down, and she turns to see Zora rolling her eyes and shuffling off toward the door. Concerned, Kara excuses herself--with some difficulty--from the throng of admirers. When she exits the palace, Zora is already gone. She must have used her speed, the one power she can actually command, albeit in short bursts. Kara floats above the island, scanning for her daughter. Finally she picks her out, standing along a high cliffside on the leeward side of the isle, gazing at the ocean.

 

She flies over, gently touches down a dozen or so yards away, and tries to think what to say.

 

“I hate when you do that,” the young Daxatonian starts, beating her mother to the punch.

 

“Do what?” Kara asks, approaching her daughter like one would a scared animal they don't want to spook.

 

“Use your powers to come find me when all I want is to be alone.”

 

“Zora, honey, if that's what you really want, then okay, but I'd like to help you if I can.”

 

“You can't.”

 

Kara sighs. “Can you at least...tell me what's going on? Maybe you're right and there's nothing I can do. But I'd like to try. Helping people is...kind of what I do, you know.”

 

“Oh _is it,_ Mom? _Really_?” Zora spits angrily. “Well in that case let me just start spilling my guts, huh?”

 

Seeing her daughter is in pain, Kara works hard to unruffle her feathers, to fight the instinctive maternal drive to tamp down a foul adolescent attitude.

 

“Honey, I love you. And I know it's been a while, but I went through some kind of big stuff at your age, too.”

 

“Not this.”

 

“Not…dealing with a sister who seems like she's effortlessly good at everything when you're struggling? I may have a _little_ experience with that.”

 

“You think this is about Allie? I'm not upset that Allie can shoot an arrow and I can't. It's not like that's a life skill I'm going to use very often.”

 

“Okay, then what?”

 

Zora turns away from her view of the sea and marches toward her mother, poking her accusingly in the chest. “You! You, Mom! You're spending all this time making Allie into Supergirl Junior, and it's like…like you've given up on me!” She waves her hands in the air, in exaggerated frustration.

 

“What?! Zora, how can you possibly think that? I would never, _will_ never give up on any of my children.”

 

“You say that, but I think it's pretty clear I'm never going to be a hero like you. And Dad. And Superlass...or whatever stupid name she decides on. I'm fourteen, and I barely have any powers. Allie and you and cousin Clark all had them by my age.”

 

“Not true! You can speed! And you're invulnerable.”

 

“I can _barely_ speed. It conks out after like a mile and then I have to wait a while. And invulnerability isn't much use without all the rest.”

 

“Have you talked to Xander? Because he's the same as…”

 

“No. He's not. He's got super strength now. He can lift a car over his head. He figured it out a few weeks ago when he and Conner were screwing around, but he didn't want to make a big deal about it since he knew it would hurt my feelings to be the last one with no real powers.” Kara hears her daughter tearing up, and her heart breaks a little. “But I heard him talking about it with John. Not super-heard, just…you know, regular human-style eavesdropping.”

 

Kara stops, floored, feeling nearly sick to her stomach, as it dawns on her how little attention she's paid to Zora the past year. Ever since Allie started training, she's been so focused on preparing her eldest for a life of heroism it hadn't even occurred to her to check in on her younger daughter. To see how she was dealing with the changes in their household.

 

Not well, apparently.

 

“You're right. Honey, I'm sorry. I haven't been there enough for you. But I think I _can_ help you. With your powers, at least. See, Clark and I always found they were tied to our emotions, and...”

 

“... I thought you said I couldn't start training until I was fifteen.”

 

“Right...well, close enough. Just...don't tell your brothers, okay?” Kara winks conspiratorially.

 

“Um…’kay. But how can you help with powers I don't have?”

 

“You _do_ have them. I promise.”

 

“Well, I'm half Daxamite, and Dad can't do half of what you can.”

 

“And yet he's still a hero, isn't he?”

 

“Yeah...I guess. I mean, he's got his Legion ring, so…”

 

“Your powers are what you can _do_. Not who you _are_. Being a hero isn't just about being fast and strong and flying places, honey.”

 

“...I bet it helps, though.”

 

“That's true,” Kara sighs. “But Alex is a hero, too, isn't she? She doesn't have any powers at all, just tech and her own resourcefulness.”

 

Zora shrugs. “Maybe."

 

"Look, honey, if being a hero is what you want, then I know you'll find a way to do it, whether you can bend metal girders or not. Like I always say, there are _many_ ways to be a hero. That said, you DO have powers. Grandma Eliza says all four of you inherited my super genes, so you should have all the same powers that I do. You just...haven't found your trigger yet. I know this stuff seems to come naturally for Allie, but in your case, bringing out your powers might just...take a little finessing, that's all."

 

"If you say so. But...honestly Mom, it's not even just that. I'll just…I'll never be like _you,_  okay?” She steps away from her mother, trudging toward the cliff's edge.

 

“What? What am I like, Zor?”

 

“It's just…something you have in you. You and Allie both. And not just the altruistic hero thing. It's your whole…attitude.”

 

“I'm sorry, _MY_ attitude?” Kara huffs, putting her hands on her hips.

 

“Yes!” Zora shouts, turning in place to face her mother. “Your whole…judgmental, holier than thou, my way or the highway, I-can-do-no-wrong ‘cause I'm the most powerful woman in the world and I'm always RIGHT attitude.”

 

Kara stops, flabbergasted. “I'M…. _WHAT?!_ HOW CAN YOU…?”

 

“Oh, come on, Mom. You know it's true. And everyone just...buys it! Even Dad! He yes-ma’ams everything you say!”

 

“That is _not_ true!”

 

“Yes it is! You're just... you're so…”

 

“WHAT?! What _AM I,_ Zora?”

 

The girl tilts her head, and right before Kara's eyes musters every ounce of dismissive, condescending haughtiness she possesses, until she practically morphs into her all-too-familiar Daxamite progenitor.

 

“You're so... _KRYPTONIAN.”_

 

Zora can't quite see her mother as the blonde speeds towards her, but she certainly feels the shove, followed by the unmistakable sensation of plummeting, and the sound of her own voice.

 

Screaming.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things come to a head, between Fake Rhea and her sons, and between Kara and her Rhea-esque daughter.

 

 

“Hello...uh, Mother,” Mon-El gulps. He looks at his brother for support, and Eltro nods with encouragement.

 

“Hello? Is that all you have to say to me, Mon-El? I would have thought perhaps an apology might be in order. All things considered.”

 

“An _apology_?” Eltro butts in, immediately defensive of his brother. “What could he _possibly_ have to apologize to _you_ about? He lost _everything_ because of you!”

 

“Elt…” Mon-El attempts to calm things down, knowing them getting agitated is counterproductive. And useless, since this...thing...is not actually their mother.

 

“Well, he let that little Kryptonian girl _murder_ me, for one thing.” Fake Rhea nonchalantly gazes at her manicure, voice dripping with ennui.

 

The Daxamites stop short, and turn to face the children, who are still standing, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, at the broken window. J'onn, standing protectively behind them, drops his head slightly and exhales.

 

“That's not what happened…” Mon-El reassures the boys.

 

“Oh, isn't it? Let's see…as I recall, you nodded at her, she said ‘I'm sorry,’ in that pathetic little voice of hers, then pressed the button. And funny thing, suddenly I couldn't breathe. And then, let's see...oh, yes. You watched me turn to dust as I begged you for help. Have I got my facts straight, hmm?”

 

“We did what we had to do to protect the Earth from _you._ ”

 

“Oh, it's _we_ now, is it? Yes, I suppose it is, actually. Since you debased yourself by… _marrying_ that horrible girl.” The avatar of Rhea visibility cringes at her “son's” life choices. “And oh, I see you've spawned a litter of half-breeds. And so the destruction of the once-great House of Gand is complete. Bravo, Mon-El. You chose a woman whose people killed our planet, along with themselves, out of sheer hubris and stupidity. You chose her over your own family. Your own blood.”

 

“And I would choose her again, and again, a thousand times over. I told you, mother, she is the _best_ thing that's ever happened to me. The best thing I know."

 

"And what has choosing her gotten you? A life of servitude? Years of pain and guilt? You could have come home! United our people! Restored our line and our throne! And oh yes, continued to have _living_ parents!”

 

“That's rich, considering you _killed_ Father,” Mon-El scoffs. 

 

“He betrayed me. Just like you betrayed your people. And where are they now? Scattered across the galaxy. With no one to lead them.”

 

“They're free, Mother! Wherever they are, at the very least, they're not under your thumb,” Eltro chimes in again.

 

“Oh, my little Eltro. Even more of a disappointment than your sanctimonious brother. I'll never understand where I went wrong with the two of you. You were supposed to be the future, and now…”

 

“...Now we're free from you. And don't think either of us has forgotten how you treated us when we were young. But we survived. And thrived here on Earth. We've become more than we ever could have been as your Princes,” Eltro spits.

 

“Yes, of course. Heroes, are we? Heroes who turned your back on your own race. Your own family.”

 

“ _My_ family is right here. And I'm forever grateful knowing you'll never have a chance to touch them,” Mon-El says coolly. “But I'm glad…I'm glad this version of you is here now. Because I do owe you something, Mother.”

 

“Ooh, is my apology _finally_ forthcoming then?” Fake Rhea smiles in mock-glee.

 

“No, Mother. I won't apologize to you. But I will forgive you.”

 

Eltro looks at his brother, who wears a look of shock on his face, before slowly nodding and taking his brother's hand.

 

“I forgive you, too, Mother,” Elt says. “And despite everything I...I still love you.”

 

“As do I,” Mon-El echoes, softly. “And Father as well. Now go in peace.”

 

Before their eyes, the image of their mother cracks a half-smile, then slowly begins to shrink down to a shiny, cat-sized black blob, wiggling like Jell-O.

 

After a moment, it re-forms into something small, blue, and furry.

 

“I la-la-love you!” the small figure exclaims, holding out its tiny fuzzy arms in the direction of two Daxamites. Their twin pairs of eyes go wide at the sight.

 

“YES! It worked! I made Beebo!” Xander shouts triumphantly, approaching from the mess hall. He fist pumps in celebration.

 

“You did _what_?” Mon-El groans, turning toward his elder son. “Why?”

 

Xander shrugs. “We had to make it be _something_ , and Beebo is Zora's favorite. So I just…concentrated _really_ hard.

 

“Mr. Stay-Puft would have been more fun,” Conner snarks. “By the way, is it just me or does Zor totally look like your fake evil Grandma?”

 

The other boys nod in agreement, possibly looking at their family member in a new light.

 

“Can we bring it home, Dad? You said maybe we'd be getting a pet out of all this,” John asks.

 

“That's when I thought it was a dragon.”

 

“So…a dragon would be okay, but a Beebo is over the line?” John points out.

 

Mon-El sighs audibly. “Okay, I take your point. Guess I really didn't have much of a plan there. I suppose bringing him home might possibly be the safest option. And as long as it's being cared for, it shouldn't have a reason to shift forms again.”

 

He looks the thing over, until it jumps up into his arms.

 

“Beebo love cuddles!” it shouts. Mon-El melts a little and takes his bag of sugar cubes out of his pocket, to the furry creature's immense excitement. It gobbles down the cubes and snuggles into the crook of his arm.

 

“Well…okay. But if this thing attacks your sister's cat, _you're_ going to have to deal with her,” the Daxamite says. “And it goes without saying, but…keep it hidden from the neighbors. At least until we can make it look like a dog or something.”

 

The boys hoot and holler, promising to take good care of their new family addition, and passing the blue cutie back and forth between them.

 

“Are you sure about this?” J'onn asks Mon-El as they start walking back towards the car.

 

“Nope. But I can't think of a better idea, can you?” Mon-El shrugs.

 

“I would take it to Mars, but it wouldn't survive the atmosphere,” J'onn replies with a shrug.

 

“Well then, Midvale it is.” They climb with their new pet into the family van, which isn't _actually_ a van but rather an intergalactic spaceship on long-term loan from J'onn that _looks_ like a Dodge Caravan.

 

“Can this thing eat French Fries?” John asks. “‘Cause I for one am starving and I believe there was talk of hitting that diner for lunch…hmm?”

 

Mon-El sighs as he starts the car. “Fine. I think we can pass this thing off as a toy. Just...keep it quiet and feed it under the table or something, okay?”

 

“Can I please be there to see your mom's face when she finds out about this?” Conner chuckles to his cousins.

 

“Yeah, me too, actually,” J'onn seconds, side-eying Mon-El.

 

“Sure. Probably not a bad idea to have as many witnesses to my murder as possible,” Mon-El lets out a shaky breath, and pulls out into the road.

 

********

 

Zora flails wildly in the air as she falls, watching the surface of the water get nearer and nearer until…

 

WHOOSH…

 

Kara swoops in and catches her daughter in the nick of time, flying them both to a nearby lagoon, and tossing Zora with as little gracefulness as possible into the crystal blue water.

 

She surfaces, still screaming, and swims toward land, where one blond Kryptonian is sitting on her knees on the pure white sand, patiently waiting.

 

“WHAT. THE. _HELL_ , MOM?!” Zora bellows, soaking from head to toe, dress clinging to her and weighed down enough to drag in the sand.

 

“What? You said you wanted to go swimming while we were here.” Kara's face is plastered with a smug smile, hands folded gently in her lap.

 

“Oh, you think you're _soooo_ funny, don't you?”

 

“On occasion.”

 

“I can't believe you just…pushed your own _daughter_ off a cliff!”

 

Kara shrugs. “Well, I needed _something_ to shut you up.”

 

“Wow. Nice parenting, Mom.” Zora shakes her head and starts to walk away, before realizing the cove is surrounded on all sides by sheer rock faces. She's stuck here.

 

“If you want to leave, you're going to have to swim, climb, or...fly,” Kara says.

 

“Are you serious? What is this supposed to prove to me?”

 

“That you're more powerful than you think.”

 

Zora groans loudly, dropping her face into her palms. “For Rao's sake. Fine. How did you and Clark figure out your powers when you were my age?” It's phrased as a question, but with little implied interest in the actual answer. Just a small hope that whatever exercise this is plays out quickly.

 

Kara relaxes a little, and cracks her knuckles in preparation before rising and approaching her child.

 

“Okay, as I was saying before, your powers are connected to your emotions. For example, I found that when I was scared...or angry, even, my visual powers would sometimes manifest. I almost fried Alex once or twice growing up.”

 

“Bet she loved that.”

 

“She did not. Anyway, I actually was hoping that pushing you…”

 

“...Off the cliff? Because, you know, you PUSHED ME OFF A FREAKING CLIFF."

 

“Yes, that...I thought it might kick start your powers.”

 

“So mama bird booted me out of the nest...but I didn't fly like you hoped.”

 

“No, you didn't. But that doesn't mean you _can't._ ”

 

“Then dunking me in the water…was that supposed to make me mad enough I'd want to punch you into next week or something?”

 

“No, _that_ was just for fun. You were being a brat.”

 

“Lovely.”

 

“Okay, listen. _Never_ tell him I told you this, but Clark once said when he was a teen...he, uh...that is, everyone goes through, you know, hormonal changes at your age, and sometimes his powers would activate when he was thinking about, um…well, you know about the birds and the bees, right? So…”

 

“EEW! MOM!”

 

“It's a perfectly natural part of growing up, honey. Most people have... _urges_...at your age.”

 

“Aw, gross. I don't want to hear about Cousin Clark's super horniness.”

 

“I'm just saying, if there are any particular birds or bees that interest you, maybe if you focus on that…”

 

Zora looks down at her hands and drags one foot through the sand nervously. “Actually, I…think I like both.”

 

“Birds _and_ bees, you mean?” Kara tilts her head, confused.

 

“Girls and boys.”

 

“Oh...OH!” Kara smiles. “Well, I'll be honest, I did sort of suspect that, love. But thank you for sharing it with me.”

 

They're silent for a long moments.

 

“Mom…can I be alone...for a bit?”

 

“Here? You don't want me to…”

 

“No. I'll swim, climb or...fly out when I'm ready.”

 

Kara nods, hugging her daughter, and takes off back to the palace, where the Amazons have been waiting to hold a toast in her honor.

 

She eventually leaves the party, slightly tipsy herself, and crawls into her plush bed in their guest quarters. As she falls asleep, she notes with some concern that Zora still isn't back. _Well, if she can't sort it out, at least I know where to find her_ , she thinks.

 

As dawn breaks, she sees Zora float in through the window. Fumbling in the fading darkness, she finds a candle and lights it...with her brand new heat vision.

 

“You figured it out!” Kara whispers. “How did you manage...”

 

“...You don't want to know.”

 

“Ohhhhh...right. Okay then. Good night.”

 

“Actually, it's nearly morning. You wanna…do a quick aerial tour of this place?”

 

A toothy grin spreads across Kara's face. “Race ya to the bell tower!” she challenges, before darting out into the open air, followed by her daughter.

 

********

 

“We're home!” Allie calls out, as the three Danvers ladies come through the back door.

 

“Hey guys! How was it?” Mon-El answers from the kitchen, as he's putting the finishing touches on the carbonara he's been making them all for dinner.

 

“Amazing!” Allie's voice practically squeaks with glee, as she jumps into her father's not-quite-ready arms, causing him to nearly flip the skillet onto the floor. “I'm gonna go unpack and then we'll tell you all about it!”

 

The blonde teen dashes out, and Kara smiles at her husband as Zora successfully reins in an eye-roll for the first time this week.

 

“Yeah, it was pretty great,” the younger girl says. “Did you guys do anything interesting, Dad?”

 

Mon-El takes a deep breath, bracing himself for what he needs to tell his wife.

 

“Actually, Kara, sweetheart, love of my life…” he presses his hands together in mock-prayer (or mock-begging).

 

Kara's face drops instantly. “Oh, no. _What_ did you do, Mon-El?”

 

He gulps heavily. “Well, here's the thing…”

 

Out of nowhere, the family cat, Pumpkin, screeches across the kitchen floor, caterwauling at the top of its feline lungs, followed by a small, fur-covered blue bear-thing in hot pursuit.

 

“BEEBO WANT CUDDLES!” the bear-thing hoots, rushing past their feet.

 

Kara and Zora watch the scene, mouths open and eyes agog, and then turn toward Mon-El, who's taken on the appearance of a deer caught in headlights. They all stand frozen for a few seconds.

 

“Mom pushed me off a cliff,” Zora finally says nonchalantly, turning on her heel to walk towards her room, bags under her arms.

 

Mon-El tilts his head, incredulous, at his wife, who lip-bites guiltily.

 

“Call it even?” Kara finally says, still cringing. Mon-El nods gratefully, and holds up his hand for a high five, which Kara accepts with relief.

 

“Oh, also, I'm bi,” Zora yells as an afterthought, from down the hall.

 

Mon-El nods knowingly, chuckles, and then pulls his wife in for a hug. “How about next vacation...just the two of us?”

 

“Good plan, babe. You know, I hear WarWorld is lovely this time of year.”

 

“Ha. Cute. I was thinking more…our favorite desert island in the middle of nowhere?” he waggles his brows suggestively.

 

“You know, I've kind of had my fill of island paradise, but I suppose I could make an exception...for you.” She leans in to kiss him, slowly, as he tightens his grip on her waist.

 

“Ahem.” They look up to see all four kids gathered at the dinner table already, waiting expectantly with plates and silverware. Mon-El knows before the night is through he's going to have to have a long-delayed conversation with the children where he and Kara recount the entire story of Rhea and Lar Gand of Daxam. But not right now. Right now he's just going to enjoy a pleasant meal with his beautiful family.

 

“Food now. Be gross later,” Xander chides, as the Daxamite and Kryptonian pull apart, and the alien family settles in for what hopefully, for once, will be a (mostly) uneventful evening.

 

Though Beebo may have other ideas.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm happy with this one as I was able to weave in two things I have been trying to revisit as much as possible:
> 
> 1\. Karamel just being super horny for each other, and
> 
> 2\. BEEBO, the almighty. Blessed be thy name.


End file.
